


Don't Infect Me

by MadduNyah



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, F/M, Freeform, Lukanette, OCD, Reveal, Sad, Sorryforthis, adrienette - Freeform, dontkillmeplease
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-09-20 08:18:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17019090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadduNyah/pseuds/MadduNyah
Summary: Adrien Agreste is lonely. Diagnosed with OCD, he lives in the shadow of his past.Marinette Couffaine is lovely. Married to a musician, she lives in the shadow of her future.Will they, together, be able to find the present?





	1. What you are doing?

Smalls steps were given as his breath weighed. One side to one side, they all watched him — maybe because he was walking in circles of his nervousness, he doesn't know. What is known is that: . He doesn't like to leave home. He doesn't like when they touch his things. Infect his things. Breathing deeply again, the model took the antibacterial gel and passed in this hands for the fifteenth time that day. The hand sanitizer smelled good.

It's all about staying calm, he thought. He had been forced out of his home, and all those things were too much for him, he hated having to stay with people — he hated people.

He put on a fake smile and touched as many things. The door opened, in his mind, the numbers went on — one, two, three, four, five (...), ten, eleven. He needed to count more, he needed to breathe more. One, touch the vase. Two, touch on the table. Three, touch on the walls. Four, smile. Five, do not wear gloves. (...), Ten, accept food. Eleven, whatever, do not go crazy.

Steps created by a liar.

He lied. Lied for psychologist twenty-three times in that session. He lied. He said four times that he was well — Lie! —, showed his hands without gloves. Finally, after a long time — two years — he was able to be released from therapy. Breathing deeply, again. His smile soon gave way to a serious face, took the alcohol in gel and passed in his hand. Arriving in his car, he felt the smell of cleansing and thanked — he loved that smell.

Before driving, he put on the white gloves — he had bought on an international website. He loved to feel the cloth pass through his hand and prevent the dirt from coming in contact with himself. He drove carefully, not breaking the speed limit. He got home, he was exhausted. He knew a lot of things, but he was never good with lies, not until he was invited to do therapies and go to a psychiatrist.

He was not good the lies, not until he was forced to be.

He knew. He knew that his way of life was "exotic", so to speak, but he did not consider it sick. On the contrary, he imagined that the world would be a better place and with fewer germs if everyone lived like him. When he got home, he changed his shoes in the doorway. he cleaned his house until he was tired. Adrien needed to stop, but he not stop. He knew his routine was exhausting, but it did not matter to him. What mattered was cleaning. And his house was clean.

His current home was white, there was no space for color in his life. After all, the worst part came: he took the bleach and put it in his mouth. Spat. His white teeth. His white figure. He took the bleach, passed it on the body, burned. He held back his tears. The smell impregnated in his skin — in his soul.

Adrien, Adrien, what are you doing?

The red burn marks, the tall body, the excessive thinness. He was a model, could not get fat, could not be perfect. But what did that mean? Adrien, what do you doing? It's not my job to tell.

The green eyes tell a story, the white smile told tears, the camera only photographed the beautiful side.

The perfect side.

Threw up. He vomited his lunch, vomited a life. He almost fell, but he gripped the wall. He wiped it all over again, and again, and again.

Just forgot one room: your mind.

In it, his father congratulated him. His mother came back and smiled. Marinette loved him again. In his mind, everything was different.

In his dreams, he found the peace he never found in real life.


	2. What was lost, after all?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien needs to think/reflect about his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!  
> Thanks for the 25 kudos and the comments. I'll be doing my best to update fast. This chapter is small but important. Hope you like it.

He was just a child. A child and his happy family, with his father who never ignored him and his mother who never die. Both were good and stable, as a king and a queen should be to his people. In the afternoon, the people — only a Young boy with blonde hair — played the piano. Today, he did not play anymore. His father was a monster, Adrien had his freedom, but... at what price?

 

Yes, in a certain instance, he had been happy. Really happy. Until he was thirteen years when the mother was gone and the father became Hawkmoth.

When he discovered, his world broke. Even so, it remained happy. He had his lady, so she too was gone. He only survived, you see, survive.

 

Not that it was all his father's fault, far from it, he also admitted his part in this injury — at that time, he never challenged the older man and simply behaved, happy to go to school, happy for his freedom and Plagg. Living as a model boy. Model. Perfect.

At the age of sixteen, he discovered the truth. He wanted to escape from that life, to finally be happy again. In more recent times, he no longer believed in that cruel hope of happiness — though he knew: if he let her die, he would die together.

 

He returned to childhood memories, for he enjoyed them very much. His old room was large with toys and a piano. In his earliest recollections, this room was a castle, but the last time he stepped on it, it had become a prison. Without his mother's green eyes, the room no longer had color, no more. Only the gray of his father flooded that place, and in that sea of obscurity, he became a prisoner of the waters that insisted on drowning him.

He was breathing hard, and upon awakening from that dream, he encountered the difficult reality and felt his muscles contract. "If you are not perfect, you will not be loved," his father told him.

 

Now an adult, he confirmed those words. No one could love him. He was born to be alone, with his damn cleansing craze — she would put an invisible weapon on his head and make him dance to the piano melody.

It did not matter. Because Plagg was gone, Chat Noir was not important or necessary, no more. Hawkmoth had lost the battle. His life had been lost. Adrien missed freedom, puns, Marinette... Marinette, his mind reminded him. She still mattered. she was still his first love, his first kiss, his first request for marriage. When things got lost?

 

What was lost, after all?


	3. What is happiness?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette thinks about what is happiness.

Marinette was happy. Of course, she was happy.

She married Luka four years ago, her life was perfect. Wasn't it? So... Why did she feel her heart burning? Things were confusing. Or rather, things have always been confusing. If only she could tell Luka. Ladybug had marked her past. The freedom, the flights, the fights, everything was lost.

You can not miss what you do not have, of course. Ladybug was never her, she knew it. It was a mark, a mask, a farce. Luka loved her for being Marinette, so she never needed to tell. But when September came, his heart was pounding and pounding. September.

When Ladybug was born.

When Cat Noir was born.

And now they were both dead.

It was better this way, she knew.

To tell the media that Hawkmoth had been caught was to tell that Gabriel Agreste had been caught. Marinette was a coward. She loved Adrien, she loved fashion, she loved the concept of family. So she was a coward. She said, "Let's keep it a secret, Chaton. No one needs to know." And she ran away.

Ladybug was never seen again, the Agreste mansion was never arranged. That night, only the police car was heard.

Gabriel Agreste was the victim of a terrorist attack, his son as well.

At the age of eighteen, Adrien Agreste left home. No one understood the reason.

People theorized, of course. Some thought they were dead, others were realistic: Hawkmoth was someone with power and so he was not arrested. Marinette never told anyone the truth, but when Adrien appeared on her porch the next day, they kissed. They cried together, they were partners. Plagg and Tikki returned to the guardian, but all was well because one had the other. A year later, they broke up.

Time is too fragile for secrets, and Adrien insisted that Marinette kept them too much. The two fought, Adrien said:

"You look just like my dad."

And Marinette shouted,

"And you're still in love with a fucking mask."

They both cried that night, it was over. Partners broken, a team shattered. Paris would never know the truth, Paris would never understand what it was like to have someone and be alone at the same time. But Marinette would bear the blame forever on her words.

The red, now, was blue.

Luka and Marinette started dating a short time later, but that's a story for another day. What matters is that they got engaged, and they got married. Marinette Couffaine did not sound as good as Marinette Agreste, unfortunately, it's not up to the future to blame the past. Both carry the burdens of their cries together.

It was in the spring that Gabriel Agreste died, only Natalie attended the funeral. At the time, Marinette refused to see the obvious: she kept her secrets, Adrien too. When did he get sick? The girl did not know the answer. Nino started complaining that Adrien was getting paranoid and Alya said that he was appearing with minor burns, but she? She should know all about Adrien. She was Marinette, damn it! Ladybug. A Heroine of Paris.

She cannot save her best friend from his akumas.

This was not something to fight, Ladybug could not cure Adrien magically. She asked him to go to therapy, countless times, but both of them seemed trapped in their blisters. She saw him crying one day, tired of modeling, afraid of the stage and failing.

Marinette had become a designer, she had married, she had lived the perfect life. But what about Adrien?! The thought in him made her return to the past. Ladybug, Tikki, Chat. I wanted to have a conversation with Chat. I wanted to see him smile and talk bullshit, wanted to fly over Paris.

In the end, Marinette was not happy. Although she had everything, she had nothing left. No Tikki, no best friend, no mask.

What was left, anyway?

Before he had seen, he had drunk all the wine.

And maybe it was the drink or the guilt she had, it did not matter anymore. She picked up the phone and called the only person who could answer and understand what she felt: Adrien Agreste.

\-----------------------------------------

_"You look like my father. Keeping secrets away from me for work, I know your boutique is important, but what about us?"_

_"Adrien, can we talk after this delivery?"_

_"No, I want to talk now, why are you so far away?"_

_"You were not the only one who missed something, all right? I miss Tikki, I'm busy with work and I'm busy talking to you instead of Luka's clothes." She screamed, tired of all that. The spring parade would be in a few weeks and his boutique was full of things, to make matters worse, Luka had asked for a costume for a show and simply could not say no to his friend. He looked so right, so trusting ... Alya would say he looked so into hers._

_"Why do not you marry him?" Adrien laughed angrily. Luka, Luka, Luka. It was all Marinette, Alya, and Nino knew how to talk. The older man was stealing his attention, his attention._

_"Adrien!"_

_"La-Marinette!" And left. It just came out._

_"What?"_

_"Nothing." He covered his mouth with his hands, worried about what he did._

_"What did you call me?"_

_"At least then you were still paying attention to me."_

_And as if she had been deeply offended, because Marinette had been, she took a deep breath and said with all the lack of calm that was not hers._

_"At least I'm not an idiot in love with a mask."_

_And that hurt Adrien. Because Marinette did not often offend people, Marinette was kind, sweet, gentle. Marinette wanted to be loved._

_"Why do not you marry Luka?" The words screamed in her mind as she said yes._

_Adrien, for obvious reasons, did not go to her wedding._

\--------------------------------------------


	4. Luck Was a Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. The real thing is that I had some problems and it's complicated to write.  
> I hope you like it.  
> Sorry for writing little, I still do not know English.

He doesn't greet his fans when walked in his direction or extended his hand for the touch. Yes, He is a model, but... nothing mattered anymore. He was not going to let his hand get dirty. For a few minutes, Adrien wished he was not famous. Because if it was just any boy, it would be untouchable by the crowd. But from a young age, he was born to be a man.  
And Adrien did not escape his obligations.  
Photographer has been praised 27 times, an average of 3 clicks on each comment, taking a minimum of 81 photos. Adrien did not know the exact number, he had stopped counting between one flash and another and it made him feel sick. His hands were sweating heavily, whether from the warmth of cotton gloves or from the anxiety that filled him from the inside. He paused for a drink of water.  
Agreste, called. Agreste. That was his name. Or rather, it was someone's name and that name passed to him, just as it would be passed to the child, if it had one day, the thought was refuted. Adrien did not want to have it.  
One day I wanted to. When things were good, Paris was majestic and his father broken all... several times. It seemed disgusting to think that the dark years of the city were his bright years.  
He is disgusting. Clean, but disgusting.  
It took him a long time to respond, not out of self-doubt, but out of consciousness. Agreste. A surname that once belonged to someone.  
He landed, smiled, let the body fall to the side and his lips changed. "Great, Agreste".  
He had a name, but most of the time they pretended not to. They pretended it was a blessing when it was a curse.  
Adrien Agreste.  
Luck was never by his side. In fact, not to tell lies, she was. In the past, She used to share the bed with him, kiss him, plan dresses and marriages with him. In the past, before Adrien ruined everything, luck caught him by the arm and said that everything would be all right. Luck was a lady, always gentle.  
And now she slept on another man's bed. She was kissing another. The thought made him want to vomit, asked for time and went to the bathroom. The thought caused him heartburn.  
His heart burned.  
Adrien could not think of it, Adrien could not be worthy of mistakes. Adrien could not dream of failing. No. Adrien could not be what he was: human.  
What would Plagg say if he saw how idiotic he turned?  
"I want cheese," he's sure.  
The nostalgic thought wanted to make him laugh, the nostalgic thought wanted to make him cry.  
He recovered to go back to the photo shoot before they complained. A part of him stayed in that bathroom, crying.  
A part of him stayed in that past.


	5. 5 - The Bad Luck was a Chat.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can not increase the size of the chapters ... But in compensation, I'll try to post more often. I will strive to be a better author!

Adrien looked at the phone, startled. It was not uncommon to get calls from Marinette, but it was always uncomfortable. That feeling that something would explode when he opened his mouth invaded, held the feeling of emptiness. Adrien needed to be mature.

"Hello?" He answered, still holding his heart and keeping him from escaping through his mouth. 

"Marinette?" In the past, it had been just Mari. The name looked as sweet as confectioner's sugar, but things changed.

They were not boyfriends anymore.

And she was married.

He held his breath, then let go. He let the air go away quietly, as the psychologist once said. Not that he was listening to her psychologist, in fact, he used to lie to her. But what would he say?

Hello, I am the superhero of Paris and my father the super villain?

Ah, my girlfriend traded me for a sane rocker.

My ex-girlfriend.

"Oh, hi, I mean, hello, I mean, hello." He laughed. Once, she told him that she loved him. So she always got nervous when she talked to him.

Now his nervousness came from another factor.

 

Which would be? Adrien did not know. "It's Marinette, but you know, you just spoke my name..." That's pathetic, he heard her mutter on the other end of the line.

"Do you want to hang up so I can call again and be all okay?" He suggested. A small laugh escaped the other side of the call. The laughter that used to be his, only his. Now it belonged to another.

 

No matter how many therapy sessions he did, it always bothered him. Marinette was gentle, beautiful, incredible, his Lady.

How did he lose it?

Of course.

In a fight.

When compared she to his father, the supervillain.

How to forget?

"I'd love to ..." They laughed.

She hung up.

And he called again.

"Hello?" He said, again. "It's Adrien"

A joke of them that lasted more than seconds, more than days. It lasted until the present.

She smiled again, he could see through the phone screen. A sweet smile like macarons, a pleasant smile. Then she said what she wanted. Apparently, she was about to talk about the new collection he performed, a smile appeared on Adrien's face: she still saw him in magazines. She could still see him. Besides, the real reason for the call had been dinner. She called him to say he was having dinner on Friday, asking if he could go. Adrien swallowed, thinking how would see Luka.

 

It did not look good. 

In the end, after many turns, he accepted. I could do that for her. Just for her. He hung up, a little agitated, throwing his body on the couch, confused by what had just happened. She knew that Marinette was their close friend, the bond they created would never break.

What he did not know was how much he would suffer for this bond. If only your Lady knew how much it hurts in her Chaton.

But she would never see.

And Adrien would never tell.

Life was unfair to the highest-paid model in Paris.

And he missed Plagg and his sour mood.

Plagg was gone, forever. 

One day, he just went into his ring and never came back. Then the ring was gone. The Guardian asked him back. It was unfair, he had grown accustomed to the company. Plagg was his best friend, his company. He could complain of the romance, of his lifestyle, could threaten to cause a cat-astrophe.   
Adrien would be okay with anything, so his kwami would come back. 

On the other side of Paris, in the less noble zone, a girl was holding the phone to her chest. Nervous. Did she love him? Did he hate it? She looked at her husband, could not bear so many lies. It was not his fault for what happened, at the same time it was no one's fault. It all started with little doubts: Luka asked her about moments of her teenage years that could never be answered. Then came the nightmares. Finally, jealousy came. Luka was handsome, she knew. Her heart beat for him, she knew. Luka was good. Luka was good. Luka was good. 

But Luka was not Adrien.

And she did not want to cry.

But when he hung up that call, it was inevitable.

She cried.

Cried a lot.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!!! My name is Maddu. I think "it's a good idea" to translate my book into English, but ... things went out of control, and I became a fanfic of Miraculous Ladybug.  
> OMG!!!!!  
> I'm Brazilian girl and student of English, but i don't talk english very well, sooo sorry for the mistakes... If they see, please, let me know.
> 
> Thank u for read this! Kiss and Reviews?!


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